Blackie in Antarctica
snips from the poem by Margaret Atwood
My sister phones long distance:
Blackie’s been put down.
Incurable illness. Gauntness and suffering.
General heartbreak.
I thought you’d want to bury him,
she says, in tears.
So I wrapped him in red silk
and put him in the freezer.
Oh Blackie, named bluntly
and without artifice by small girls,
black cat leaping from roof to roof
in doll’s bonnet and pinafore,
Oh sly fur-faced idol
who endured worship and mauling
…
Oh midnight-coloured
faithful companion of midnight,
Oh pillow hog,
with your breath of raw liver,
where are you now?
Beside the frozen hamburger
and chicken wings: a paradise
for carnivore. Lying in red silk
and state, like Pharaoh
in a white metallic temple, or
a thin-boned Antarctic
explorer in a gelid parka,
on who didn’t make it.
…
What an affront, to be equated
with meat! Catlike, you hated
being ridiculous. You hungered
for justice
…
You wanted what
was coming to you.
(Death
is, though. Ridiculous. And coming to you.
For us too.
Justice is what we’ll turn into.
Then there’s mercy.)
++++++++++
You didn’t get the whole poem, but I hope it was enough to give you an idea how wonderful it is and how much I am enjoying The Door.
My kitties are very much alive though you might not be able to guess it from the photo. We had an all-black cat when I was a kid. We got her when I was two and I dubbed her Cat-Cat. If there is justice, Cat-Cat is living it up in cat heaven in a palace with fresh tuna to eat whenever she wants it. She deserves it after being drug around by me and my sister as though she were one of our dolls. Never once did she bite or scratch. And small as she was, she would scare the living daylights out of any dog whose shadow darkened her doorstep.
My Granny (that’s what we called my mom’s mom, my dad’s mom is Grandma) was superstitious and Cat-Cat of course did her best to make her crazy. Granny also had a toy poodle for many years that she would bring with her when she came over. Cat-Cat tormented that poor dog until she wouldn’t budge an inch away from Granny’s foot. The dog always had a poodle cut with the puff on the end of her tail and Cat-Cat would stalk her tail and pounce on it from around corners. My sister and I thought it was hilarious but Granny was highly and personally affronted.
We didn’t get to bury Cat-Cat. The vet wouldn’t let us have her back after she was euthanized. It’s just as well. I’m not sure she would have liked being buried amongst the rose bushes in the backyard with the lesser beings–numerous goldfish, a rat, parakeets. But if she had ended up there, she wouldn’t have complained. Forbearance was something she was an expert at.
What a pooterish post this ended up being. I am working on gathering some interesting library trivia to post next week to celebrate National Library Week. Have a good weekend!
Oh, that poem is heartbreaking!
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What a great poem, photo, and post!! I loved imagining Cat-Cat pouncing on that pom-pom tail!
Thanks for the poem and the remembrance of Cat-Cat. Surely she is chasing Granny’s poodles (and Prince) all across heaven.
I love the poem. Why am I reading it with a smile?
I wonder if the local library has The Door? Will check it out today, since I can finally leave the house!
Love the pictures of the cats too. Loved the story of Cat-Cat stalking the poodle’s tail too. It IS hilarious.
Oh, the idea of Blackie in the freezer – just awful! We had an all black cat too when I was a child and my sister dressed him in her dolls clothes as well – he was a fierce cat and would attack your legs whenever he could – a big cat- we loved him. He disappeared one day and never came back – we were devastated.
Wonderful poem! Thanks for giving us bits of it.
Sylvia, heartbreaking but with a dark sense of humor too.
Inkslinger, thanks. Cat-Cat was merciless when it came to the pom-pom tail!
Dark Orpheus, it made me smile too. So glad you can leave the house. don’t over do it though! I hope your library has The Door. And thanks!
BooksPlease, awful but funny at the same time. Your cat sounds wonderful. Our cat never went outdoors but I would have been devastated too if she did and never came back. Too be left always wondering what happened. Horrible.
Dorothy, always glad to share
My cats are also black and tabby, but they certainly aren’t as friendly as yours… on different ends of the same sofa is as close as they get! Good to find your blog, Fiona
I always forget what a good poet Margaret Atwood is. Thank you for reminding me. I loved the story about Cat-Cat pouncing on the poodle’s tail – just a delight. My first cat, Boris, used to have a fascination with toes appearing out of frothy bath water. We would call ‘fiiiiishyyyyy, Boris!’ and he’d leap up on the side of the bath and make swipes at you. How we never ended up with a cat in the bath or lacerated toes, I do not know.
I’ve heard that the most common cat name is “Kitty” (don’t know if it’s true, but I do happen to have a friend with a cat named Kitty). Cat-Cat is much more original! I love it!
Your cat-cats are ADORABLE.
Is there any animal more snoozatious than a cat?
My Jack sleeps about 99% of the day and night. What a great gig!
Your post, and the poem, reminded me though [sadly] of my favorite cat, as a kid. His name was Joe.
And he was totally all black. He loved to eat those big huge grasshoppers, the kind that fly around with a clacky noise!
After we had Joe for about 10 years, he made the mistake of wandering into our Evil-As-Hell neighbor’s yard, and they trapped him… knowing full well what they were doing. Then they called the Human Society and Joe was hauled away, and euthanized before we could find out his whereabouts.
I will never forget the day when we finally found out what had really happened, and my dad tore a strip off the neighbors as they worked in their damn garden.
I listened, from yonder.
It was where I learned how to swear good, and to love my dad better.
What a great photo! I think we could all learn something from cats when it comes to knowing how to rest! Cats are such great nappers. And I love your new banner, too!